


Storytime

by chileancarmenere



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Cheesy Romance Novels, F/F, Hessarian's Spear, Lurid Purple Prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-19
Updated: 2012-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chileancarmenere/pseuds/chileancarmenere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabela reads aloud a racy part from "Hessarian's Spear." Bethany thinks it's hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storytime

**Author's Note:**

> There's a bit of dialogue between Isabela and Bethany where Bethany finds some of her erotica, a book entitled Hessarian's Spear. I always wanted someone to write the actual Hessarian's Spear, but there's only so long you can wait.

Bethany bounced the heel of her boot against Isabela’s bed. The pirate was leaning back on her pillows, hair still undone and thigh-high boots piled up in a corner. Every few minutes, Bethany heard the rustling of pages as Isabela leafed through her book, the sound punctuated with an “Ooh,” or an “Mmm.” 

Bethany finally turned around. “Could you…” She flushed. Everything she said to Isabela made her sound prudish. “I mean, you’re reading a, a vulgar book while I’m in the room.”

“Well, I have to kill time somehow before your brother gets here.” Isabela raised an eyebrow. “Or I could read it out loud?”

“Isabela!”

“You’d have to curl up with me though. It’s not half as fun if you don’t get to see the pictures.”

“Oh, you…”

“You are _too_ cute when you blush. I know there’s a dirty girl in there somewhere, screaming to get out.”

“Isabela, really, I don’t…”

“Screaming, kicking, _writhing_ …” The Rivaini pirate set the book down on her stomach and looked at Bethany through her eyelashes. “Just _longing_ to be set…loose.”

Bethany shivered a little under the intense liquid amber gaze. She opened her mouth to formulate another excuse – Garrett was probably going to be here any minute, vulgar books weren’t really her thing, she was a virgin and probably as soon as Isabela knew that she’d run a mile rather than face her red-faced fumblings…

What the hell, she thought suddenly. Isabela was here. Bethany was here. They might not be here again for a very long time, or perhaps forever. Just for once, she wanted to set her rules aside.

“All right.”

Isabela raised her eyebrows. “No shit! Snuggle up, sweet thing, and get comfortable.”

Hesitantly, Bethany crawled up beside Isabela. The pirate’s skin was warm and smelled salty, like seawater. She was acutely aware of Isabela’s thin white slip, barely covering all her dark curves. Isabela threw an arm around Bethany’s shoulders, tugging her in close. 

“First thing you have to learn is that these aren’t ‘vulgar.’ The genre’s called erotica. Say it.”

“Erotica?” she said, puzzled at Isabela’s insistence she say the word.

“Ooh. Erotica is one of those words that sounds sexy no matter who says it.” Isabela flipped through the pages. _Hessarian’s Spear_ was written on the cover in ornate, gaudy letters, accompanied by a picture of – presumably – Hessarian, holding a swooning Andraste by the waist, both in various states of undress. 

“Oh, this is a good part.” Isabela cleared her throat and twisted her fingers into Bethany’s hair. “You’ve got such lovely hair, sweet thing. Can you see the pages? No pictures yet, but I’m pretty sure there’s one on the next page.”

Bethany discovered that her throat was too tight to speak, so simply nodded. Isabela chuckled, full and throaty. “Relax, sweet thing. It’s erotica, not handcuffs. Right…here we go.” As Isabela started to read, her voice became a little deeper and huskier. Bethany thought distantly that it was like poured chocolate.

“‘Hessarian took in the stunning sight of the beautiful woman in front of him. Even though she was chained to the cold stone wall, she still looked every inch a lovely queen. Her pale skin glowed like ivory in the moonlight shining from the lonely barred window, and her dusky black hair shone like the glossy darkness of a raven’s wing.’ They’re a bit fond of adjectives in this story, sweet thing. ‘“Oh, my Andraste,” breathed Hessarian, gazing at her bountiful chest. “I am so sorry for having to do this thing to you.” 

“Don’t lie to me!” Andraste cried passionately, throwing herself against the cruel chains. She hated Hessarian with a furious passion, and hated herself more for her body’s traitorous reaction to him. Her slim thighs heated up just at the sight of his captivating manliness, and her porcelain cheeks flushed rosy red. “You feel no guilt at all! It is your harridan wife that makes you do this! And you believe her!”

“No!” Hessarian’s deep, manly voice was wracked with anguish. He crossed the room in two great strides and crushed the prophet to his muscled chest. “Do not say such things to me, beloved.”

‘Andraste laid her burning cheek against the soft velvet of his archon’s robe. She wanted to cry hot salty tears, but she had wasted them all weeping wretchedly for him. “We still have this one night,” she whispered softly, looking up at him appealingly, her eyelashes fluttering. “Let’s not waste it.”’ Here’s the spicy bits. Sorry about all the terrible dialogue. ‘Hessarian stroked her perfect hair, his manly hands trembling. “You are right, as always. We shouldn’t waste such a gift.” Her almond-shaped eyes were dark with desire. Hessarian bent his brown curly head and feasted on her rosy, full lips until she was moaning deliciously into his mouth and crying out frantically for more. Her delicate hands were still bound to the wall behind her in cold iron chains, and he cursed himself for a simple fool who forgot to bring the key until it struck him – those chains could be used for something else.’ See, I like Hessarian. He uses what’s to hand. It’s ingenious. ‘Hessarian slowly untied her blouse, trailing his hands down her chest, until her perfect creamy breasts were on display for him. His pulsing member was so hard he thought it might burst.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely, and knelt before her. Andraste arched her slim back and screamed luridly as he suckled lustily on her pale pink nipples. She wanted to bury her hands in his thick glorious chestnut hair and pull hard as she rode the rolling waves of pleasure, but the cruel chains held her back. Hessarian licked and bit fiercely until the prophet was in a frenzy of heated lust. 

“Your turn,” he said, smiling, and stripped off all his velvet and silken clothing, standing before her like a perfect example of potent manhood. Andraste knelt before him almost reverently, but then was consumed by killing worry. “I’ve never…”

“You’ve never brought a man to fulfillment with your mouth?” Andraste nodded, feeling shameful. Oh, her poor dear Hessarian, she could not bring him to fulfillment!

“Do not worry, my sweet Andraste,” Hessarian said gently, burying his hand in her sweet-smelling curls and drawing her perfect face towards his throbbing groin. “It is nothing frightening. It is simply… _my spear_.”” Isabela drew the last two words out with a dramatic flair. “It’s okay, I know the dialogue’s awful. ‘Andraste plucked up her iron courage and stroked Hessarian’s member gently. By the Maker, it was immensely enormous. She quashed all her fearful doubts and slid it into her little mouth, past her kiss-reddened lips and over her tongue. His giant member was velvety on her tongue, but hard as steel within. Hessarian shivered mightily and moaned, “Oh Andraste, you are so good at this!” She glanced up, pleased at her newfound prowess, and began slowly, exquisitely drawing him to his furious climax. He thrust rhythmically and powerfully into her mouth, his strong rhythm growing ragged as he felt his conclusion coming upon him. She whimpered pleasingly as she felt his raw virile power surge through him, leaving him pitifully weak at the knees, and she swallowed every delicious drop of him. 

“Now, Andraste,” Hessarian said, his breathing labored, “I shall teach you what true pleasure means.”’ Just so’s you know, sweet, a real live man wouldn’t reload this quickly, I don’t care what Varric says. ‘Andraste shivered pleasantly at the fierce intensity of his deep voice. Hessarian laid his masculine hands gently on her sweetly rounded hips and turned her round till her flushed cheek was laid against the cool stone wall. Andraste turned her head anxiously to look at her hero for warm reassurance, and he kissed the corner of her bow-shaped mouth, murmuring wordless endearments. He masterfully eased her embroidered silken skirt out of the way, and…’” Isabela flipped the page and sighed, smiling fondly at it. “I knew there was a picture in here somewhere.”

Bethany craned her head to look. The right hand page was taken up with an ornate, explicit illustration; Andraste was pressed against the wall with an expression of beatific satisfaction on her face, while Hessarian stood behind her, fingers digging into her hips, posed in mid-thrust. The prophet’s breasts would have given Isabela a run for her money, and Hessarian’s muscles were so chiseled that they looked like the Orlesian statues in Kirkwall’s tonier houses. 

“Nothing like illustrated erotica. Where was I? Oh, yes, ‘and eased a finger into her dripping slit, smiling when she arched her back and groaned in wordless desire. He leaned against her, pressing his sculpted chest to her shoulders and whispered seductively “Come for me.” She screamed when his clever fingers pressed dextrously against her hidden pearl, and he bit at her pale shoulder when he heard the evidence of her pleasure. “Oh, fuck me, fuck me, Hessarian my love,” she begged breathlessly, and he gladly complied, thrusting his quivering member deep inside her, relishing every sweet second he slid through her scorching hot wetness. He pulled out slightly, cruelly, and she sobbed wildly, bereft, until he slammed back into her with a vengeance, rubbing ferociously against her sweet hidden spot again and again until she cried out with agonizing pleasure and clenched hard around him. The wondrous sensation was too much for Hessarian and he bellowed, coming with a rush so hard that it dripped down her thighs. As he gently drew out, he wrapped his muscular arms around Andraste’s waist and bit her tantalizing neck. “I promise that I will always love you.”” 

Isabela stretched a little, handing Bethany the book. “If you’re curious, go ahead and flip through it. No more spicy bits after that, unfortunately.”

Bethany’s cheeks were on fire after Isabela’s reading. “No, I…I think I’ve had enough.”

“Really?” Isabela turned over a little till she was facing the mage. “I’m just feeling…warmed up.”

Bethany looked into Isabela’s amber eyes, and knew she was lost. “Isabela…”

“You call the shots, sweet thing.” The pirate reached out and twined a curl around her finger. “If you want me to stop, just say so.” 

Bethany leaned into Isabela’s touch a little. Isabela’s eyes softened, and she brushed the back of her hand against Bethany’s cheek. She just breathed the words: “don’t stop.”

“Your wish is my command.” Isabela cupped her hand around the back of Bethany’s neck, and gently drew her towards her. She paused a moment before their lips touched; Bethany smelled of buttercups and honey. She’d have to tell Varric that Sunshine was an apt nickname. 

Bethany’s eyes flickered open, and then she jerked forwards, all but colliding into Isabela. Her mouth was inexperienced, but sweet, and Isabela lightly flicked her tongue along Bethany’s lips, rewarded with a moan from the mage. Isabela let one hand drift down and settle on Bethany’s waist. In turn, Bethany hesitantly reached out and barely brushed Isabela’s breast. The pirate laughed into her mouth. “It’s okay, I promise that they don’t bite.”

With a sharp intake of breath, Bethany ran her hand over Isabela’s gloriously full breast. She felt amazed that she had never known this before, never even known that it was possible to want this. Isabela rolled a little closer to her, sliding the hand on her waist down her back. Bethany shook with what she wanted to know, what she wanted to discover.

At that inopportune moment, the door opened. 

“Um…Bethany?”

“Garrett!” Bethany shot up, disentangling herself from Isabela and brushing herself down as innocuously as possible. “I, um…”

“Isabela?” Hawke inquired.

The pirate looked wonderfully careless. “I was corrupting your little sister. You interrupted.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Hawke folded his arms and leaned against the doorpost. “So are you ready to go, or should I come back in a bit?”

“Oh, stop acting so holier-than-thou,” Isabela said, pitching _Hessarian’s Spear_ at him. “Not like you haven’t been dreaming about sucking your broody apostate’s cock.”

Hawke opened the book, flipping through it at random. “What’s this?”

“My weapon of corruption.” Isabela snatched up her bandana from the table. “So. Are you coming?” 

Bethany swung her legs over the side of the bed, and Isabela held out her hand. With a sudden glad smile, Bethany took it.


End file.
